"Ah… ahh~ Y-yes, right there. Good work, drone." Irina clicks her stopwatch with a satisfied glance at the display, returning those strict eyes to the top of #13103's head. With a firm hand, the drone's operator pushes its face away from her well serviced slit, a line of spit and sex collapsing against the expressionless thing's chin. Shades are slipping down, revealing dull eyes staring so blankly at the sight of their own achievement. A new record, but #13103 is too well trained to feel pride, to make the mistake in thinking their success is really theirs.

The drone sits up straight with a creak of sleek black latex, Irina Mayerford adjusting its glasses and heating up her hand on its deep red cheek. "My mouth is your machine, operator."

#13103 is a smart machine, it knows when a question from operator is rhetorical. It can borrow the human brain in that head to make such assertations on the fly, while following programming to perfection in all other instances.

"Yes operator."

Fingers may be required in addition to that well oiled mouth.